


Morpheus' Magic (2007)

by JennyB



Category: Yami No Matsuei
Genre: Community: 30kisses, Love/Hate, M/M, Orgasm Denial, Unresolved Sexual Tension, erotic dream
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-04-30
Updated: 2007-04-30
Packaged: 2018-01-05 10:58:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1093079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JennyB/pseuds/JennyB
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>We're all expected to act a certain way, but our dreams are ours to do with as we please. There, anything goes. Even the most forbidden of acts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Morpheus' Magic (2007)

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the LJ group "30kisses". Prompt was 'the space between dream and reality'.

Tsuzuki knew he was dreaming – he had to be. Everything around him was just too surreal. The sun was high in the sky, yet it was weak and pale like the moon, bathing everything in a silvery aura. The very shadows seemed to move and shimmer in that darkened light. It was eerily pretty, and yet, he felt a strange sense of foreboding as he looked around the deserted courtyard he was standing in. Underneath his feet was a small patio made of roughened terra cotta tiles, and an intimate café table with two chairs was on the far side. A large, sterling silver serving platter sat on the table, covered with a well-polished dome lid. As he approached the table, he could see the rolling expanse of lawn, and on the wind, he could almost smell the sakuras and magnolias that were in full bloom in the distance. Where the hell was this supposed to be?

Cautiously, he approached the table and lifted the lid. Underneath it sat a bottle of González Byass sherry and the most sumptuous looking slice of apple pie he had ever seen. His mouth was practically watering as his gaze roved over the golden, flakey crust and the smell of the cinnamon and mace assaulted his senses. The dessert had been paired with a few wedges of old cheddar cheese, and the alcohol had been deliberately chosen to compliment the tartness of the apples. A folded note on elegant ecru card stock simply read, _'For You'_. Amethyst eyes darted around, looking to see if there was anyone in sight, and when the brunet realized he was alone, he sat down in one of the comfortable chairs and picked up the fork. _'A little taste won't hurt,'_ he rationalized to himself, figuring that he was already dead so if he _wasn't_ dreaming and the food was poisoned, it would do little more than make him feel a little off for a couple of hours.

As if watching in slow motion, Tsuzuki memorized the motion of the fork as it cut through the top crust, the flakiness of the pastry readily apparent, the succulence of the fruit obvious as he removed a bite. He held the mouthful up, subconsciously licking his lips as he studied the rich golden colour of the filling. He watched as the glaze pooled on the tines and a single drop fell back down to the plate, as if it was teasing him, tantalizing him. Unbeknownst to him, he loosed a small groan of pleasure and, before he realized what had happened, he had devoured the entire slice along with two glasses of the sherry.

Sitting back in his chair, he wiped his mouth with his napkin and, as he set it down on the edge of the table, he realized he felt a little woozy – as though he were very drunk. He blinked a few times in rapid succession, and then gave his head a shake, as though trying to clear it. "Damn," he muttered to himself when he tried to stand and found himself unable to.

"I take it you enjoyed the treat I left for you?" a sensual voice drawled in his ear, the warm breath washing across Tsuzuki's neck as it spoke.

The brunet's eyes went wide, and he rapidly turned in his chair to face the other, only to gasp in surprise when the only thing he saw beside him was a cloud of soft, white feathers floating slowly down to the ground. "What the hell?" he murmured, now more than a little agitated and quite confused. That sensation only increased when he heard a low, dark chuckle coming from the other direction. Turning back around, Tsuzuki paled and felt his blood turn to ice when he saw the doctor perched in the other chair, his legs crossed at the knee and an infuriating smirk on his face as he brushed an imaginary piece of lint from the sleeve of his immaculate white trench coat. "Muraki!" he hissed, his eyes narrowed slightly in a display of indignation. "What the hell are _you_ doing here?"

"You should ask yourself that, for I assure you, Tsuzuki-san, what happens in here is entirely of your own doing. After all, this is _your_ dream, ne?" The silver eyes glinted as the smirk widened. "Perhaps you wished for me to be here; it's not entirely outside the realm of possibilities, don't you think? After all, we do have _such_ a history together." He chuckled again when the other's cheeks flushed.

"Hardly!" Tsuzuki retorted a little too vehemently, his blush going darker at the thought. Suddenly, his brow furrowed in contemplation and he asked, "So, if I wished for you to leave, it would happen, right? Since I'm the one controlling the dream?"

"I suppose that would be an accurate statement –"

"Be gone!" the brunet shouted dramatically, giving an elaborate sweeping gesture with his arms as he spoke. A pleased smile curved up his face when the doctor vanished once more in a flurry of feathers. "How about that?" he remarked as he got to his feet. "I got my wish." He polished off the sherry that remained in his glass, his smile widening as he felt the dizzy euphoria wash over him once again. 

"Hn…you certainly did, Tsuzuki-san."

The brunet felt an arm around his waist, a hand twining with one of his own, and as he was turned, he found himself once again face to face with those piercing silver eyes. "What –" He was cut off by a pair of lips descending on his, their touch surprisingly gentle coming from one so brutal.

"I guess you don't really wish for me to leave, do you, Tsuzuki-san?" Muraki purred against his cheek, the tip of his nose moving to tease the brunet's ear. "Don't worry," he continued, a hint of amusement in his voice, "I won't tell the boy. It'll be our secret, until such time as you don't wish it to be." He released his hold on Tsuzuki's hand and gently sifted his fingers through the soft, chestnut tresses, his teeth teasingly nipping the sensitive lobe. "In here, it's ok for you to not hate me, Tsuzuki-san," he whispered, his voice a sensual murmur. "In here, you can freely accept my love for you, realize just how much I desire you."

Despite himself, Tsuzuki found himself listening to the doctor's words, his will slipping, his self-control waning. He felt his legs tremble and, rather than push himself away, he found his hands grasping tightly to the lapels of Muraki's trench coat. He could smell the scent of his cologne and, before he could stop himself, he'd let out a small, needy whimper. "You're trying to trick me," he said quietly, almost petulantly as he gazed earnestly into those cold eyes, feeling almost disgusted with himself when he saw his wanton expression reflected in the lenses of the doctor's glasses.

"No, Tsuzuki-san," Muraki replied as he smiled darkly, showing off his even, white teeth. "I give you my word that in here, neither you nor anyone you hold _dear_ ," he made a slight face at the word, "will come to any harm. Trust me; you might actually like it."

"It's not a trick?"

"It's just a dream, isn't it?"

The brunet was silent for a moment, and then hesitantly, almost shyly, he slid his arms up and around the fair-haired male's neck, letting his fingers tangle into the silky soft hair at the doctor's nape. Loosing a small gasp, he turned wide, amethyst eyes to Muraki's, as if seeking belated permission for his actions, and half expecting to be punished for his boldness. When the taller man simply leaned in closer to him and purred, "That's right, Love," in his ear, the last of Tsuzuki's restraint snapped. Tipping his head up, he closed the distance between them, pressing his lips to the other's in offering. His eyes fell closed when Muraki deepened the kiss, his arousal spiralling even higher as his mouth was ruthlessly plundered, and his body ached with need. To him, the doctor tasted like licorice and tobacco and fine wine, and he found he was immediately addicted to it. He mewled softly into the embrace and when the other finally pulled away, it was all he could do to fight the stinging prickle he felt in the corners of his eyes. Cheeks flushed with desire, lips kiss-swollen and slightly parted as he panted breathlessly, he gazed up at Muraki through his lashes and whispered, "More…please."

Muraki chuckled softly, his own eyes slightly lidded as he pulled the brunet closer to him and once again captured Tsuzuki's mouth, his tongue slow and sensual with its caresses, almost seeming to mimic the movements of his hand along the smaller male's back.

Tsuzuki felt as though he was floating as he surrendered himself completely to the other, and when he finally opened his eyes, he was surprised to find himself back in his own room, in his bed, and naked. Muraki was half-lying beside him, still fully clothed, his one hand stroking teasingly along the brunet's chest and side, his thumb occasionally brushing against one of the dark-haired man's hypersensitive nipples and drawing a lustful cry from him.

"You're even more exquisite than I'd imagined you to be," Muraki commented as his hand skimmed along the brunet's abdomen, the long, elegant fingers tracing around his navel. "You're just perfect. I could spend hours worshipping your body in this manner…among other ways," he added with a licentious smirk.

"Then do it," Tsuzuki murmured brazenly. "Please…" He was dizzy with desire and thought he might pass out if he didn't find his release soon. The doctor certainly knew how to touch him, seemed to instinctively know all of his most sensitive areas.

"No," Muraki replied, his smirk widening at the whimper he earned in return. "It's hardly fair of me to take advantage of you in your dreams like this. Besides, Tsuzuki-san, if I'm going to make you scream my name in pained pleasure, I want to actually be able to feel your delectable body beneath mine." Gently, he brushed away the frustrated tears that had actually spilled down Tsuzuki's cheeks at being denied. "Patience, Love…in due time, you will get your wish. Of that, I promise you." Slowly, he leaned down and, with a low purr, he trailed his tongue down the brunet's throat. "After all," he whispered against the soft skin, "My mark will heal before five minutes have passed, but never forget, you belong to me." He pressed one last kiss to the hollow of Tsuzuki's throat and then bit him at the juncture of neck and shoulder, suckling harshly as he cradled the brunet in his arms.

At the feel of the other's teeth on him, Tsuzuki cried out loudly in pleasure as he sat up in his bed. Panting harshly, he swallowed thickly, letting his eyes fall closed as he lay back down and tried to get himself back under control. "A dream," he muttered to himself as he rolled over to resettle himself. "A strange one…but still just a dream. Even if it was a pretty good one."

With a smile, he snuggled deeper into his pillow, his eyes blinking open a moment later when he felt the crinkle of paper against his cheek and smelled the heavy perfume of flowers in the air. Suddenly wide-awake, his heart hammering in his chest, he quickly sat up again and reached for his lamp with trembling fingers. As he flicked on the light, he gasped in fear when he saw his room was literally filled with dozens and dozens of blood red roses set in vases on every possible surface, and even on the floor. "M-Muraki!" he murmured aloud to the empty room, his hand fumbling for the paper that he knew was on his pillow. Forcing his eyes to the sheet, he swallowed harshly when he saw the neat, perfect, back slanted script. Taking a deep breath, he read:

_Tsuzuki-san,_

_I know I promised you a million roses, but you'll have to settle for a thousand for now. You are a most exquisite creature, and I'm pleased to know that you don't find me nearly as objectionable as you did when we first met. I am looking forward to our next meeting, Love. Now that I've had a taste, I desire you even more. Soon, you will be unequivocally mine. That is, after all, your wish, isn't it?_

_Until then…_

_~M_

Dropping the paper into his lap, Tsuzuki absently brought a hand up to his neck and pressed his fingers to the skin. Of course, there was no mark, but when he withdrew his hand, he could see that there was some residual blood from a very recent wound. Hurriedly throwing on his robe, he rushed to his window and flung it open, peering out at the wide, rolling lawn in the pre-dawn light. His breath caught in his throat when he _thought_ he caught a glimpse of white, but when he blinked, it was gone. For a few moments, he debated waking Tatsumi and telling him what had happened, or confiding in Hisoka. And then, just as quickly, he dismissed the idea. Muraki had been right about everything, as usual. The man could read him like a cheap paperback, and it bothered him somewhat that he was that transparent to the doctor. Idly, he fingered one of the rose blooms, the crimson smear of blood slightly darker on the delicate petals. He knew it was dangerous and wrong to even entertain such ideas, but at the same time, Muraki's almost fanatic obsession with him kind of made him feel special, in a perverse sort of way. A twisted smile settled across his features, and when he licked his lips, he swore he could still taste the other there. Maybe in reality, he would be practical and logical. But in his dreams, oh, those were his own. And there, anything went.


End file.
